Follow my journey from Greece to Sweden and my quest for happiness, starting August 23rd 2014.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Never be ashamed of your tears

"Why Alexandra why, why have you done this to me?", he cried in pain the previous night.

Blessed with titanic strength and steel resolve he decided to keep on going, keep on pushing, until his dream came true. Trouble always found a way to reach him yet he always pulled through. He is not going to buckle under the pressure now is he? Domestic violence, psychological warfare, identity crisis, heartbreaks, kicks, punches and he kept going.

He found himself on the floor next to the battle sacks, in a room long forgotten where almost nobody entered unless it was time to change and visit the outside world. Crawling on the floor, back against the wall waking up to ash and dust. A soldier walks in and sees him in that condition.

"What are you doing here like this?", he asks with a confused look and a worried face.

"I don't know, i just remember the pain", Kostas replies.

He was lying there for 30 minutes, sleepless for yet another night unable to clearly track his footsteps during the last night. He wakes up and dizzy manages to walk with trembling, shaking feet towards the army headquarters. He had to change to his army outfit and be there shaved and normal for the morning report.

He harnessed one more all the strength he could muster, a strength he did not have and looked superhuman even to him, while cataclysmic thoughts of how is he going to make it for another 4 months flooded his mind and clouded his vision. Kostas looked like a human wreck, an abomination and a zombie of that vibrant colorful personality that made everyone around him positive and happy.

He witnessed yet another scene during the morning report that made him feel like his home once more. The captain shouting, insulting, threatening and punishing people for no reasons, just because he could, just because he wanted to. Kostas felt cold and shiver tingling down his spine, as the memories from last night became to be crystal clear and combined with the fear of punishment and jail wanted to let go and cry rivers of blood and tears, to soothe the frenzied tantrum he was into.

He wanted to raise his fist and raise his voice, its a revolution i suppose. Welcome to the new age.

They were instructed to clean the buildings, the toilets and gather up dust and spiders, every single pine needle from the ground. They were given pickaxes and picks that were so old as time itself to remove the weeds from the tarmac and it was like they were trying to remove themselves, that is how they felt. Like weeds, being taught a lesson that you will be punched and kicked and picked in every step of your life.

Dizzy from his hangover and his lack of sleep, Kostas staggered found a bed and went into deep slumber and then all the previous night's events struck him like an atomic bomb.

Time re-winded in a fancy nightclub of Thessaloniki called Bedroom along the coast. He was in there with a young football player he met in a cafe a few months ago, called Christos Alexiou. Kostas is currently unaware of his tracks and where he plies his trade. Back then his was playing for a famous local team called Iraklis (Heracles) and they ended up going for a drink there. Kostas did his usual stuff, strutting around with grace and confidence and a swagger few could pull off. He already met with multiple people and the Dj, increasing his social value in the club. At one time he passes some people to go to the toilet and there is a man very angry at a girl, shouting and waving.

"What did you tell him! Go after him!" Kostas tells the girl jokingly. She laughs and he goes to the bathroom.

On his third walk around the club a man approaches him and tells him "Follow me outside".

Unaware and unsuspicious Kostas follows him outside.

"Did you talk to my girl?", he asks Kostas.

"Yes, i just told her to go after you" were the last words spoken that night.

Before even finishing his sentence, Kostas feels the dark cold swipe of fate and stupidity slapping him in the face. His opponents palm was hitting him in the face with a thousand swings. It took him 10 seconds to understand what is going on.

Then a switch flips out. The hunger and the thirst for power, revenge and pain creep into his mind and he lets loose the beast within. He ducks and skips on the left, avoiding the hit. He unleashes a left cross with blazing speed and lightning reflexes to his opponents throat.

He is staggered and dizzy. Kostas takes a quick step to the right and hits him with a low kick to the thigh. You can hear his scream and agony, the pain in his eyes, the need for destruction and war.

Left cross, skip, left uppercut, right cross, knee to the stomach and a headbutt to the nose. The dude falls flat on his back, everything looks like slow motion as his body drops like a lifeless log on the ground. There is blood running from his nose.

Kostas turns around as everything returns to normal. The girl is crying next to him. The bouncers around the club are simply watching the show, they do not give a shit about what just happened. Kostas picks up his stuff and runs in the dark street trying to escape from his actions. He only tried to protect himself, but he always fears what people think and the aftermath.

A few blocks later he reaches his favorite place, a small club where he felt like home. Sort of. He picks some ice cubes and he plummets to the ground next to a pair of plants. Everyone around is having a great time and he is there, cutting a frustrated and forlorn figure. He holds the ice cubs wrapped in a napkin and holds it pressed against his bruises right above his left eye. His head still spins from the alcohol and the fight and the adrenaline shot he just consumed.

He sobs and he thinks about life. How all these unexpected turn of events have led him there. When instead he would be sleeping next to his alleged life partner he was about to sleep on the bus stop for 30 minutes before he returned into the army camp.

The pain is unbearable. He is a little sick and his throat is sore. He can barely speak let alone think. He starts to cry uncontrollably and nobody cares. He should not be there.

"Why Alexandra why, why have you done this to me?" he lets the world know, even if nobody would ever listen to him.

Then he wakes up from his slumber. He was dreaming the events for 15 minutes until another soldier told him to get the fuck up and go help again.

Kostas is left picking up his pieces and pulling himself together for just another day in the office.

Goodnight Sweden.

PS. That was the last time i cried in 2013. You can knock us down. But don't think you can keep us down. We will be getting up stronger than you can possibly imagine. And you will dance to our vibe. Never give up. Never back down.

Dark, gloomy, a bringer of death and destruction, painful but strong and resilient.